Fight or Flight
by ElfLuver13
Summary: After Murtagh and Eragon's confrontation on the Burning Plains, Murtagh returns to Uru'baen and a very distressed Galbatorix. Soon after, he is sent on another mission with an assassin as his companion. Full summary inside. MurtaghOFC
1. Chapter 1

**My first Eragon fic, so go easy on me. I understand that the third book has not been released yet, this story will start at the end of the second book and will go in a completely opposite direction than what the real third book will go.**

**Full Summary: A ruthless assassin for Galbatorix meets Murtagh, returning from his recent battle with Eragon on the Burning Plains. Galbatorix, in an effort to capture Eragon and secure Saphira for his own uses, sends them to retrieve the Dragon Rider and his beast. Only time will tell what will happen as alliances are forged, broken, and betrayed in the war ravaged land of Alagaesia. Murtagh/OFC**

**Disclaimer: All characters, places, and names recognized as the work of Christopher Paolini are not mine nor will they ever be. I do however claim right to my original character, and other names/places that are not recognized as Christopher Paolini's.**

* * *

**_---Chapter One---_**

**_Fight or Flight_**

**_by: ElfLuver13_**

**_-----------_**

* * *

I ran. I ran harder than I ever had in my life. I could hear shouting behind me as men chased me through the dark alleys of Uru'baen. My breath came faster, I could see their shadows edging closer to mine by the second. But I didn't dare glance behind me. I could not risk being seen, and then later being recongnized. I became acutely aware of the blood that was splattered across my chest and dripping from my hands.

I darted around a corner, hoping to catch them unawares. From there I sprinted farther still until I could see the gates of King Galbatorix's palace in my sight. The men behind me seemed to be giving up, I could hear their harsh breathing becoming more faint with each stride I took.

With a nod to the guards watching the gate, I slipped through, breathing a sigh of relief as they clanged shut behind me. I collapsed against a stone wall, catching my breath before I would report to the king to tell him of my success. I knew he would be pleased, his suspicions about the strange merchant had been correct. He was a spy for the Varden. He had been feeding valuable information to the rebels, and it had to be stopped.

Straightening my posture, I attempted to wipe a bit of the blood of my hands, though it was nearly impossible as it had begun to dry. I walked calmly through the palace doors and into the entrance hall, stealthily making my way to the throne room where Galbatorix awaited. Odd, I thought, that he would have two guards heavily armed at the entrance. Two soldiers clutched large swords that blocked the heavy oaken doors to his throne room.

I heard shouting, two men were raising their voices in a heated arguement. I stepped closer to the doors, earning me a glare from one of the guards.

"The king is not to be disturbed," he said in a stony voice. No matter, my hearing was enough to catch most of what was going on behind the thick, ornate doors.

"You let him go?!"

"I retrieved Zar'roc! That is what you sent me out there for, for my inheritance!"

"Yes, yes, but I thought it would have been easy enough to get both the rider and dragon in your possession and bring them to me. You had them at your mercy, so I have been told by the returning warriors who were also present at the battle."

Silence. I heard a sneer, and recognized it as Galbatorix's.

"We shall speak of this later. I have other matters to attend to," he said. A short while later, the doors opened and a tall, dark haired man stormed out. His eyes met mine, such intensity I have never seen before. I knew at once that this must be Murtagh, the Dragon Rider. He looked down at me briefly before brushing past me and out of sight.

I gave myself one last glance to assess my appearance, and strode confidently through the doors and before the king's throne. I bowed deeply before him.

"My king, Baldur the merchant was indeed a Varden spy," I began.

"Did you dispose of him? I cannot have rebel allies running about Uru'baen," he said, anger in his voice. I could tell his rage was still great from his previous conversation.

"Yes, my king. He will no longer be the eyes and ears for the Varden," I said. He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. His smile showed gratitude, but not pleasure. He stared off in thought for a few moments as I waited for his next statement.

"Very well. You are dismissed. I shall call upon you when you are needed," I bowed once again and exited the throne room. Making my way along the corridor hung with elaborate tapestries, my mind wandered to Murtagh. What had he been arguing with Galbatorix about? I had heard of Eragon and his dragon, but I had no knowledge of what the king wanted with him alive. A steep price had been placed on his head, one that an experienced hunter could not resist.

As I entered my familiar room that smelled of clean leather and a slight odor of sweat, I hung my weapons on the wall and set about to doing the one thing I looked forward to after a killing. Bathing.

* * *

Murtagh slammed his fist into the table. His breath came in short gasps as he struggled to control his anger. He ran a hand through his dark hair as his breathing slowed down a bit. Thorn was in the dragon hold, but Murtagh could still feel him reach out to him with his mind. 

_Angry?_

Murtagh sighed and answered sarcastically. _Perhaps._

_Anger does no good when it is held, it is better to put it to use._

_How?_

_Use it to fuel what it is you desire, what will make you forget your anger in the first place._

_Galbatorix wishes us to capture Eragon and Saphira._

_I thought as much. Do you still have doubts?_

_Yes. He's my brother. _Thorn did not answer, Murtagh assumed he had given up on the conversation and fallen asleep, as he usually did. He shed his dusty clothes and changed into clean garments before giving into the weariness that had followed him from the Burning Plains.

* * *

Waking to the bright rays of sunlight that passed through her room, Caitrin turned away from the light to fall back asleep. Her light brown hair was strewn across the pillow and hung in whisps over her tanned skin. She pulled the warm coverlets back over her slender body, slowly drifting off again. A disturbance below her window woke her with a start. 

The sound of a dragon's roar echoed beneath her bower, she sat straight up and hastily pulled on a tunic. Darting to the window, she leaned over the stone edge to see a vibrant red dragon circling in the courtyard. His rider, Murtagh she presumed, stood a few feet away, seemingly just staring at him. Caitrin had heard of riders communicating with their dragons telepathically, so she assumed that was the case. They appeared to be training, practicing new moves and maneuvers.

Thoroughly annoyed at being rudely awakened, she dressed fully in an over tunic and leggings before sweeping her hair into a plait. She pulled on her boots and set off for the kitchen to grab something to eat before finding something to do. While she was in the palace, she was free to do whatever she liked until Galbatorix requested her services. She had no family to go back to, and no other interests besides killing. Her payment was an occasional 50 crowns a head, depending on the targeted victim, and free room and board.

The kitchen was still bustling after they had prepared the king's breakfast, for his midday meal was to be started soon after if it was to be finished in time. Grabbing an apple amidst the chaos she quickly removed herself from the kitchen and sat down on a stone bench near the courtyard. The sound of more roaring and clashing swords met her ears. The rider had an opponent.

Savoring the sweet taste of the fruit after days of nearly starving, she basked in the early morning sun. She was content to be alone. The merchant had been surprisingly well guarded for merely a low status tradesman, which was what had lead the king to suspect there was more to him than meets the eye. A sword was knocked from a fighter's hand in the courtyard and it pulled her from her thoughts.

"My lady," Caitrin turned to see a nervous servant at her side. She was not used to being addressed as a 'lady'.

"Yes," she prompted.

"The King requests your presence immediately," he bowed and sped off. Throwing the apple core to the ground, Caitrin stood up and stalked to the throne room yet again. He could not have possibly found another target in less than a day. Courtiers had crowded outside the throne room, whispering amongst themselves. Caitrin pushed through the crowd, entering the room to see Galbatorix pacing in front of his throne and his advisors lined up behind him. He acknowledged her presence and she stood patiently before him.

Minutes passed, and Caitrin became increasingly curious as to what the king had summoned her for. Hearing a commotion behind her, she turned her head to see Murtagh make his way through the crowd and enter before the king as well. He stopped next to her, surprise showing on his face at seeing her there. Galbatorix ceased his pacing and stood tall before the court. The doors shut loudly behind them.

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**I would appreciate feedback on how I'm doing! I really haven't done any Eragon stuff before. Thank you for your time and input.**

**-ElfLuver13**


	2. Chapter 2

**A huge thank you goes out to all reviewers of chapter one! **

**centra228, walkure13Brynhild, Nelarun, sweetblonde14, luvthefluf, DrakonGurl, FireDancer, bloodrainalchemist, alfalfa7, and LittleRockinDragon**

**You guys are my heroes!!! This second chapter is for you all.**

**Thank you to FireDancer, for pointing out that I had the wrong place for the capital, it was in Uru'baen, not Gil'ead. I apologize for the mistake, it has been fixed.

* * *

**

_**---Chapter Two---**_

**_Fight or Flight_**

**_by: ElfLuver13_**

**_-----------_**

* * *

"You're sending us where?" Caitrin asked. They had listened to Galbatorix speak of their enemy the Varden and his plan to send the two of them to retrieve the rider and kill the Varden leader. Galbatorix spoke with venom in his voice, spitting out the names of Eragon and Nasuada as though they were poison. 

"You will both travel to where the Varden are regrouping. It is already rumored that some of their number has set off to find the Ra'zac and retrieve some who were taken. It is a hopeless endeavor, but should you meet them on the way, kill them. I would not want to take any chances," he told them, resuming his nervous pacing. "Two horses have been set up, and they have been stocked with provisions. You will leave this night, and try to stay hidden if you travel by day."

They both nodded. Caitrin pondered on the thought of traveling with this man. He glanced at her as well, and she thought him to be sizing her up. He was known for his quietness, and his parentage. It was known also that he was the brother of Eragon, the fearless dragon rider. Caitrin had learned that bit of information when an advisor she was speaking with slipped. He had seemed quite flustered about it, and she had not brought it up since.

The thought of traveling with him seemed daunting, especially when she would be traveling with his dragon. Would it fly overhead? Creep along beside them hidden in the forests? For all she knew, dragons could have invisibility powers. Highly unlikely, but it was a thought. Galbatorix dismissed them, clearly distressed as he had been the night before when Murtagh returned. The news that the twins were dead did not help matters.

As they left the throne room, she felt Murtagh pull her aside. He had a strong grip on her sleeve as he swept her behind a pillar. She rubbed her arm where he had grabbed her and frowned at him. Already they had gotten off to a rotten start.

"What do you want?" She asked, scorn evident in her voice. He obviously felt he had the right to push her around, and he responded as such.

"What do you think?" He growled. "Look, I don't see the reason why we should become enemies. If we are to be traveling partners for the next few months, at least we could try and make this enjoyable." Caitrin sensed an underlying sense of wounded pride and irritation in his voice.

"Something the matter? You seem upset," she asked, not really caring about his well being, just curious as to his harsh disposition.

"I would expect so. Anyone would feel inadequate when their superior assigns someone to _assist_ them after an almost successful run," the irritation became more evident. "Especially when the assistant is a_ woman_."

He had overstepped the line.

"Fine, if you feel that way then I see it impossible that you and I can cooperate in a successful assignment. You and your male superiority will have to deal with _a woman_, no matter what your thoughts on the matter," she turned, stomping away from him in fury.

"Oh, and one more thing," she turned, a violent look on her face, "who said _I _was _your_ assistant? Are you sure the King hasn't assigned me to you to make sure _you_ don't mess up again?" She turned and walked away again in triumph, a smirk on he face. She missed the slight look of hurt before his face twisted into equal anger.

* * *

Caitrin slammed the door to her room and sat on her bed. She probably shouldn't have said the last bit about him messing up, but her temper had gotten the best of her. She gathered a few things such as extra clothes, weapons, and personal items before she fell into her bed and tried to get some rest before they left.

* * *

Thorn was silent as his rider stalked around the dragon hold with a furious look on his face. Murtagh hadn't said anything, but Thorn knew from the way he was moving that it would be useless to try and speak with him, he would only anger more. 

"We are leaving tonight," he spoke suddenly, in a vicious tone. "We are to be accompanied by another, one of Galbatorix's assassins. I am sure you'll find her quite... agreeable," he struggled with the last part, adding a sarcastic tone to it.

_But you didn't._

"What?" He shouted.

_You didn't find her agreeable. Something tells me you do not like her._

"Really? What would give you that thought?"

Thorn sighed and rolled away from him on his side. Murtagh shook his head and left, knowing Thorn wouldn't talk to him until he calmed down.

* * *

After a quick and light meal, consisting of bread, cheese, and fruit, Caitrin walked to the courtyard. It was nearing dusk, the sun was set low in the sky. Two horses, a bay with white socks and stocky legs, and a long-legged gray, stood waiting with two stablehands holding their reins. Saddle bags tied to them were bursting at the seams with provisions and other necessities. 

Caitrin looked around, seeing no one but herself and the the stable hands with the horses. Where was Murtagh? Perhaps he had refused to travel with a _woman_, that seemed like something he'd do. She could not imagine him being late. Hearing voices behind her, she turned to see her answer.

Galbatorix was talking with Murtagh in hushed tones as they walked down the steps into the courtyard. Murtagh shot her a narrow-eyed glance before returning his attention to Galbatorix, who didn't seem to notice. He handed Murtagh two tags, engraved with Galbatorix's insignia. She strained to hear what he said next.

"You will wear these, if you are stopped by any of our soldiers, these will get you through faster than an explanation," she heard him say. Murtagh nodded and took them, giving a slight bow and continuing down the stone steps. As he passed her, he tossed her one quite agressively, hitting her square the chest. She grabbed it before it slipped through her fingers and begrudgingly followed behind him.

"The bay is mine," he said, answering her unspoken question about who would ride which horse. She watched as he grabbed the reins and swung up on the horse with a sense of familiarity. She raised an eyebrow at his assertiveness, and mounted the gray, feeling him prance beneath her in anticipation of the journey.

"Thorn, my dragon, will fly above us," he said. As he finished hs sentence, a blur of red scales landed in front of them. Caitrin turned her head and shielded her eyes at the sudden wind. When she felt it stop, she looked up and saw a brilliant red dragon on his haunches before them. He growled softly and turned to face her. She felt herself shudder at his close observation, and was more than relieved when he turned his eyes away from her and back to Murtagh. After she thought she saw a silent conversation play between the two, the dragon drew his wings back and jumped into the air, flying high above them.

Murtagh silently turned his horse around and she took this as a command to follow him. They passed through the iron gates, so heavily guarded by a unit of armored men, and made it to the outer fringes of the city by nightfall.

* * *

**Second chapter alright? I had a little trouble with this one, but I think it turned out okay. Now that this is written, I should be able to write the other chapters more easily. Please review and leave a comment! It is imperative I catch mistakes like the one in the first chapter early!**

**-ElfLuver13**


	3. Chapter 3

Anyone up for chapter three? Thank you to everyone who's reviewed so far!

**Rommie03, sweetblonde15, alfalfa7, luvthefluf, and Tori Gend**

* * *

**_---Chapter Three---_**

**_Fight or Flight_**

**_by: ElfLuver13_**

**_-----------_**

* * *

The sound of the horses' hooves trotting along mingled with the mysterious sounds of night as they rode. After nearly a day of continuous riding, with no rest, Caitrin began to feel the effects of long rides on horseback. Her thigh muscles ached from clenching the horse beneath her, her backside pained her after hours and hours of sitting, and her shoulders brought even more discomfort by sending sharp, shooting pains down her arms when she tried to move them.

She did not often ride horses in her duties, preferring to walk to better evade capture. With a horse she could be easily noticed. Murtagh sent her a glance over his shoulder and she struggled to hide her signs of fatigue. She cursed inwardly when he smirked, knowing that he most definitely noticed her predicament.

"Would you like to stop?" He asked. She glared at him through narrow eyes, knowing that he was patronizing her in a silent way. He already thought her weak for being a woman, this was bound to make it even worse.

"No, that is, unless you want to," she answered. "Mayhap _you_ have become sore and would wish to stop?" He frowned at her assumption, it was clear to anybody that he rode often and expertly. He handled the menacing bay as if it were a reliable old cart, instead of an intimidating, mean-tempered, nasty beast. Her own mount, the long-legged gray, was high-strung and skittish. The gelding tended to shie at every noise, especially at night.

"I am not sore, I only offered because you seemed wearied of our traveling. It is near the time when we should stop, if not for ourselves but for the horses," he said. She silently thanked the horses and their short endurance for the chance to rest up.

Murtagh cut off the trail and picked his way precariously through a thicket. Caitrin followed close behind, trying not to get snagged by the prickly bushes. The brush thinned into a small clearing, big enough for two horses and two humans to rest the night. Large, overhanging trees sheltered the small bit of space, blocking out the moonlight and numerous stars. What looked like a clear stream ran along the side of the clearing, giving them and the horses easy access to fresh water.

"Why didn't you tell me you were in pain?" He asked her quietly as they watered the horses. She turned to look at him slowly, wondering why he would ask her such a question. Obviously she couldn't lie, it was obvious what had ailed her, she had dismounted stiffly and almost fallen over for the lack of strength in her legs.

"I had not thought you noticed, and I could have easily ridden another three leagues or so," Caitrin answered confidently.

"You could not have ridden any longer, believe me. You looked as though you were about to fall flat on your face," he told her. She tried to find a way to deny him and his statement, but she couldn't find a reasonable excuse. She was spared a response when wind suddenly seemed to blow more harshly, stirring up leaves and dust around them. Caitrin pulled the collar of her cloak around her face to shield it from the onslaught of nature.

Moments later, a now familiar red shape landed in front of them. Caitrin had not factored a dragon into the equation when she had calculated the amount of space for each of them in the clearing.

"Will he... ah... be sleeping near us?" She asked him. He looked back at her as if she were mental.

"Of course. Where else would Thorn rest out of sight?" Murtagh answered. It made sense, somehow, and Caitrin watched as the mammoth beast curled up in the clearing. Once the dragon was settled, it was a wonder both them and the horses even fit in the clearing.

The horses were tied to some low hanging branches near the river. Caitrin stared at the small space left for them, it was barely bigger than a closet. Murtagh unrolled his bed roll and went to lie down before stopping and staring at her inquisitively.

"Is something wrong?" He asked.

"No, no everything's just... fine," she answered, unrolling her bed roll as well. She stood staring at the two sleeping places, wondering how it was going to work when the two bed rolls practically overlapped. With a grunt, Murtagh had fallen into his and seemed to be asleep. Cautiously, Caitrin lowered herself into hers and wrapped herself in the wool blanket.

His leg moved, touching hers briefly. She tensed, her body stiffening. Moving to the edge of her bed roll, Caitrin rolled onto her side, facing away from him, and tried to ignore the soft breathing of him and concentrate on falling asleep.

* * *

Something felt warm, and nice. Caitrin awoke slowly, trying to savor the last moments of sleep. Funny, she hadn't felt so comfortable last night... 

She felt movement. With confusion, she realized this movement was beneath her. She began tilting her head upwards, afraid of what she would see. Murtagh's grey eyes stared back at hers in equal consternation. He raised one dark eyebrow at her, and it finally hit her. After they had fallen asleep, she had involuntarily moved to his side and he to hers.

She sat up with a start, earning a groan from Murtagh as she accidentally delivered a blow to his stomach with her arms as she sat up.

"Sorry," she said softly, drawing back in fear.

"I'm fine," he answered, standing up and going about his business as if nothing had happened. She tried not to meet his eyes, knowing that if she did her cheeks would flush a brilliant red, like the color of his dragon. Her horse snapped at her for disturbing his sleep and began to sidestep when she tried to place the saddle on him. With a sigh she tried again, but the horse remained stubborn.

"Need some help?" Murtagh called to her. As much as she wished to deny it, help would be quite useful. She knew she would never get anywhere with what she was already doing, and reluctantly nodded. Murtagh simply held the horse's head firmly, trying to keep him still as she placed the saddle on his back.

"So, about this morning..." Murtagh began. Caitrin stopped securing the saddle and looked up at him sharply.

"What about it?" She asked.

"You didn't move towards me, did you?" Caitrin stared back at him in disbelief.

"No," she answered indignantly, her voice dangerously low. "I believe it might have been _you_ who moved towards _me_."

"I would have remembered that," he replied.

"You were asleep! How could you remember anything?" Murtagh smirked, letting go of the horse and handing the reins to her.

"Let me know if you need anymore help," he said. Caitrin thought she caught a hint of a patronizing tone. Her blood boiled at his arrogance and superiority.

"I shall," she spit out. She mounted her horse as he did and followed him out of the clearing, watching as the small, red dot in the sky flew above them.

* * *

After four hours of riding, with only one brief rest, both travelers could feel the tension mounting between them and the utter fatigue setting in. The horses had slowed to an almost lazy walk, heads dropped low and ears relaxed and hanging loosely. 

A snap in the underbrush brought them to attention. Murtagh stopped and raised a hand to stop her as well. Caitrin obeyed and listened herself for what might be lurking in the prickly undergrowth. Her horse pranced nervously, ears flattening and tail swooshing nervously.

"Get down!" Mutagh yelled, yanking his horse out of the range of a flying arrow and hurrying over to her. He grabbed her off her saddle and galloped into the forest with her dangling beside him with an arm around her waist. She struggled to get free from him but his vice-like grip held her strong.

"Put me down!" He complied when they stopped, leaving her to fall the short distance to the ground with a thump. She stood up indignantly, brushing the dust and dirt from her cloak. "What was that for? And where is my horse?"

"We were being ambushed, in case you couldn't tell. The Varden have caught our scent it seems and decided to try and take us out before we reached them. As for your horse, he's probably run off by now," he finished. "They will have followed us, so be ready."

Caitrin's dislike of him grew with each passing moment. While still glaring at him, she drew her sword and faced the sounds coming from the direction they had just fled. Murtagh dismounted and stood beside her. She felt his presence oddly comforting in the back of her mind, but she pushed that thought from her head quickly. Hadn't she just hated him a few a moments ago?

More arrows flew at them and they quickly dodged them. A man covered in strange chain mail dropped down from the trees and raised his sword as he ran at them. Caitrin moved forward and easily disposed of him, watching as his face twisted in aguish behind his helm and his broken body crumpled to the ground. More came and soon they were both involved in dodging, striking, and killing the Varden soldiers without barely breaking a sweat.

"Do you think there is any more?" She asked him, surveying the dead bodies around them. He seemed to listen for a moment, his head completely still. She heard him utter some strange words, thinking that it was the odd ancient language that no one spoke anymore, except for the riders. Caitrin watched as his eyes changed, and he seemed to be looking somewhere else, even though he was looking straight at her.

"They have either fled, or we have killed them all," he replied. "There is not a single one roaming these hills anymore." Caitrin watched, fascinated, as his eyes returned to normal and he flashed her a rogueish grin.

"What was that you did?" She asked him.

"A simple spell that allows me to see through Thorn's eyes. He is above us as we speak, and eager to rest. We will be stopping earlier tonight because of the ambush."

"Our supplies are running low, especially since most of them were on my horse," Caitrin told him, bitterness etched into her voice. She became furious when he laughed, but couldn't help letting a small smile break onto her face at the sound of him. "What?"

"You won't let that go, will you? Look, we can stop in a town not far from here, it's even on our way to the Burning Plains. It's a few day's ride from here, so until then you'll have to ride on my horse with me," he said. Caitrin let out a small yelp of protest. "Would you rather walk? Or perhaps ride on Thorn? I'm sure he'd love that," he muttered.

"What if you rode Thorn, and I rode your horse?" She asked hopefully. He shook his head.

"Riding Thorn was never an option, I need to be on the ground, and so do you," he finished. She heard the finality in his statement, and reluctantly agreed. She cast a glance at his horse saddled and ready, knowing that he might have been too much for her to handle.

He mounted his horse effortlessly and offered her a hand. Caitrin took it and swung up behind him, settling into the saddle and molding herself to the contours of his back. She felt him twitch at the close contact. His hair tickled the edge of her face as he turned to make sure she was settled. Murtagh clapped his heels to the horse's sides and Caitrin quickly latched her arms around him as the horse began to gallop.

* * *

**The next chapter will be _very _interesting. Please Review! I want to know if I'm doing this right or if it could be better!**

**-ElfLuver13**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, ready? Mwahaha... lovely chapter for you here. Thank you, thank you, thank you to all the reviewers!**

**sweetblonde15, luvthefluf, LadyJamie178, alfalfa7, Black fire Raven, and evilcarrotofdoom**

* * *

**_---Chapter Four---_**

**_Fight or Flight_**

**_by: Elfluver13_**

* * *

"How far is this city?" Her voice irritated him to no end. The past day that they had been riding was spent mainly on horseback with one short respite at a stream. Caitrin had seen her chance to question him when they slowed from their usual all-out gallop.

"We are less than a day away from Furnost, and it is more a small town than a city," he spoke, clearly bored with the current situation. "Their main business is fishing off the Tudosten, the lake it sits near."

Another day. Another long, exhausting day in the firm saddle trying to keep from falling asleep against Murtagh's shoulder. She could have sworn her backside was bruised beyond repair from the endless bouncing of the horse's galloping. She found herself missing her old horse, whose smooth gait would have been welcoming compared to the bay's choppy and mixed footing.

"Anything else I should know about this... Furnost?" The name didn't sound familiar at all, Galbatorix had never sent her to Furnost for a kill, so naturally she never knew about it.

"Half the town is on stilts, to keep the houses from flooding. Since it happens to be close to the Varden, they supply the Varden army with many things. Once we reach Furnost, we will travel around the lake Tudosten, to Petrovya, and from there pass through Surda to reach their encampment on the Burning plains," he said. Caitrin became puzzled.

"Surda is not our ally, how will we pass through their lands without capture?" Caitrin knew Murtagh had been told the general outline of their mission, but how could anyone be so crazy as to pass through Surda? They murdered any they captured from the King's empire, after torturing them for information of course.

Silence passed with only the sound of the horse's hooves plodding along the beaten path. Caitrin could almost hear Murtagh preparing an answer.

"Disguise will be our ally, as long as we travel by night. We can't risk an even greater danger by approaching the Burning plains from the southwest of Furnost. They have countless guard towers and scouts postioned before them, and Surda is only left unguarded because they are an ally of the Varden," he answered. This made some sense, and it was smart if they wanted to stay alive.

Caitrin looked up curiously as darkness began to spread. Black, ominous clouds were moving quickly. The sound of distant thunder rolled across the emptiness around them. Caitrin was amazed when Murtagh's horse remained indifferent to the booming thunder, not even flinching at the harsh sound.

Murtagh reached into the packs tied to the saddle and pulled out two oil-slicked cloaks. He handed one to her and they stopped so they could secure the slightly heavy cloaks to themselves. After remounting again, rain began to pour from the clouds above and pelted them relentlessly as Murtagh urged the horse into a strong gallop.

* * *

Around late afternoon, they stopped at an outcropping of trees. The rain had yet to slow and still came at its hardest. After tying the horse to a tree, Murtagh joined her beneath the large leaves and branches of another older tree. 

There was little space that was sheltered by the overhanging tree, causing them to sit shoulder to shoulder to at least get out of most of the wetness. The position made their limbs cramp easily and Caitrin felt like she had jump and move after only a few minutes crowded beneath the tree.

"Sit over here," she heard Murtagh say from above her. She was crushed against the side of him facing the opposite direction. Did he mean he wanted her to sit _on _him?

"What do you mean?" She asked warily. "I'm already practically sitting on your lap."

Murtagh smirked and wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her from beside him and setting her carefully on his thighs. He was right, neither of them could get wet.

"Better?" He whispered, right next to her ear. She felt shivers go through her at his warm breath on her cold skin. She nodded slowly, knowing that if she tried to use her voice it wouldn't be anything but a squeak.

As much as Murtagh acted as though none of it phased him, it had a powerful effect on him nonetheless. Her smooth skin was soft to the touch and the smell of her brown hair intoxicated his senses. The temptation to brush his lips against that flawless skin beneath her ear was overpowering.

Hours passed with night beginning to fall. The rain slowed to a slight drizzle, allowing them to at least see clearer and farther. Thorn was resting nearby, hidden by a large outcropping of rocks. Murtagh told him to circle above Furnost while they gathered supplies.

"We should enter the town now, it's getting to be late at night and no one will bother us. Come," he moved to stand, gently easing her off of him. She stood up quickly and they mounted moments later, speeding off towards the tiny fishing community of Furnost.

* * *

"We're staying together, the food will be easy to find and then we can search for a horse. The town may be small, but there are many twisting alleyways between the houses that we can't afford to lose you in," he said superiorly. 

"So you think I would be the one to get lost? You are entirely sure of that? The way I see it, you would be the first one to get confused because of your stubborness," she retorted. He ignored her, examining a few fresh pieces of fruit at a vendor before purchasing them. The vendor gave them an odd look before they passed on.

The town was indeed very intimidating at night. The darkness cloaked everything with only a few torches every so often to shed light. After the recent storm, houses dripped with the rainwater and the nearby lake swelled dangerously close to the quaint town. She pulled her hood farther down over her face while following Murtagh through the mucked streets.

After they had stopped at several other vendors and purchased other fruits, breads, and sustaining items they made their way over to the edge of the town where some stables were located. Up ahead of them, Caitrin noticed two men, one older than the other and hunched over slightly. Their cloaks looked different than the usual style of the town and they made a habit of glancing over their shoulders to check behind them.

"I guess we aren't the only ones in Furnost trying not to be noticed," she said. Murtagh looked up with a frown marring his features. He glanced to where she was looking and immediately began ordering her about.

"Follow me," he said, pulling her by the arm into an alley that he had earlier warned about. "If we're lucky, they just missed us. Judging by the looks of it, though, they have seen us." Caitrin was extremely confused.

"What do you mean? Who are 'they'?" Murtagh ignored her and pushed her up against the side of the house. He leaned close to her, pressing her against the wall and whipsering into her ear.

"They are Varden spies, two of the most well known ones at that. My guess is that they're stationed at every outpost from here to Surda. If they see us, we're finished," he whispered. Caitrin breathed slowly, trying not to make anymore noise than she had to. "They saw us rush into this alleyway."

"So what do we do? If they've seen us, it's like you said, isn't it? We're finished."

"No, we can fool them. You're going to have to cooperate, follow my lead. We have little time before they pass by and search this alleyway. Tell me, who else hides in alleyways?" Murtagh asked.

"Murtagh!" She whispered harshly. "This is no time for riddles!"

He gave her a look, and she answered sarcastically.

"Besides Empire assassins who are trying to kill the Varden, I have no idea. Do tell," she replied. Murtagh gave a sigh of frustration at her words.

"Imp," he muttered. "Lovers. They frequent alleyways, do they not?" Caitrin caught on quickly.

"Oh no, no, no, no. You are not seriously..."

"Here they come," he said. She didn't have anymore time to protest before he pressed his lips against hers in what would seem a passionate kiss between two devoted people. Unfortunately for Caitrin, it was awkwardness abound in her mind.

Out of the corner of her eye as Murtagh kissed her, she saw the shadow of the Varden spies pass by. One of them, the older one maybe, she couldn't tell, stopped for one short moment to look before passing by quickly after seeing them. She tried her best to return the embrace and play the part of the eager lover, but Murtagh let no room for that. His hands had wandered to her waist, one even moving to cradle her backside. She gave a surprised sound at this, but tried to continue.

When he was sure they had passed, he broke the kiss, backing away from her and breathing quickly. Caitrin felt her heart beating a mile a minute, her lips tingling from the possessive kiss.

"Sorry if it was unexpected, but it worked did it not?" Caitrin nodded numbly, once again not trusting her voice. "Come on, we will find you a horse another time, now we must leave this town quickly."

* * *

**Too soon for a kiss? Not so if you're running from expert Varden spies. And it's all uphill from here, romance wise of course. Please review! They keep me going and inspire me to write!!!**

**-ElfLuver13**


	5. Chapter 5

**Don't you love summer? School's OUT!!! Sorry for the late chapter, finals were killing me. I will be quite busy this summer, but I will make time to write. Thank you to all who reviewed:**

**Canadian-Girl14, LadyJaime178, alfalfa7, Nelarun, Galbatorix123, Knight Vampire, DragonRider2000, sweetblonde15, Tori Gend, luvthefluf, and Wolflady13**

**One reviewer mentioned that a part did not make sense, I must explain that it meant the Varden were not guarding Surda to the south, which they will be passing through. It was not meant to be Furnost. Hope that clears something up!**

* * *

**_---Fight or Flight---_**

**_by: ElfLuver13_**

**_-----------_**

* * *

Caitrin could feel the tension between them like a physical pull. It's palpable presence unnerved them both as they galloped as far south of Furnost as they could in one day. The woods surrounding the east side of the lake made a perfect spot for hiding and getting back their bearings. 

The small little space they had come upon had room for them both, Thorn would be able to hide himself in some caves near the forest. Caitrin sat on a rock studying a map intently, a quizzical look on her brow. Murtagh stood nearby brushing down the horse.

"Why are there no caves marked on this map?" She said, turning the map upside down and scrutinizing it even more.

"Perhaps it is an outdated map, or the caves are not known to everyone, including the mapmaker," Murtagh shrugged. "At any rate, we better hope the Varden don't have their hands on a map that does show those caves, it screams hiding place for dragons."

"I wonder what else isn't on here..." she trailed off, trying to think of the things they had passed and then looking at the map for them.

"There's a small pond not far from here, Thorn saw it when he was circling overhead," Murtagh added. Caitrin immediately brightened.

"Wonderful, I can cleanse myself of at least four days of dirt then," she stood and grabbed her pack from the saddle Murtagh had dumped near her. Murtagh raised one slim, dark eyebrow at her. "What?"

"We just spent an entire day of riding to rid ourselves of any spies, and now you want to go right back out there and lead more of them in?" He asked increduously. Caitrin rolled her eyes, remarking silently to herself what a childish habit it was.

"I'm sure the Varden spies are nowhere near us. They don't even know we're here!" She retorted.

"That depends on how convincing you were as a lover, from my perspective-" she cut him off.

"From your perspective?! You coudn't see anything either! You were too busy eating my face, what makes you think you saw anything of them?"

"-out of the corner of my _eye_, the older one seemed a bit suspicious. If you really do have your heart set on bathing then I'm coming with you, to make sure you don't get into any trouble." Caitrin scoffed. The man was insufferable. Her stomach may have flipped when he threw that surprise kiss on her, but that was quickly discarded.

"Fine. I'm sure you have enough decency to turn your eyes?"

Murtagh smirked, a devilish grin on his face. "Of course, why would I not? Besides, I had been thinking of bathing as well."

"Where is this pond?" She asked, gathering up a few more things to take. She tried unsuccessfully to rid her mind of an image of Murtagh bathing. Ignoring the odd spark she felt, she gathered a few things to take. She found some soap and a clean pair of leggings and a shirt from her pack. Murtagh had a similar bundle under his arm as she followed him from their camp.

The forest had enormous trees with long branches, unlike any Caitrin had ever seen. The atmosphere felt ancient, with a calm and peaceful resonance to it. She looked ahead and saw Murtagh had sped up, leaving her behind with a significant gap between them.

"So much for staying with me to keep me out of trouble," she muttered. He jumped up onto a rock and stood overlooking something. She scurried up the rock herself and her eyes widened at what she saw.

A clear blue pond sat serenely about six feet below them. It's smooth surface looked like glass, with not a ripple breaking on it. Looking through the transparent waters, Caitrin could see rounded stones along the edges of the pond and nothing but sand covering the bottom. It was nothing like any other ponds she had seen or bathed in.

"So you're going first then?" She heard Murtagh ask beside her. Before she could answer, he had placed a hand on her back and pushed her in with a quick shove. She had no time to utter expletives at him as she hit the water and felt its icy coldness. As she came up, breaking the surface, she could hear Murtagh laughing above her.

"What was that for! You could have killed me!" Her mind ran with innumerable curses she could call him, and many ideas of revenge came her way. Instead of answering her, he jumped in as well, hitting her with a wave of cold water as he hit the surface of the pond.

"The water's nice," he said pleasantly. She glared at him from five feet away. "It's not like you weren't going to get wet anyways."

She turned around to find where her bundle of clothes and soap had gone. They sat innocently on the bank, next to Murtagh's. When she turned back around, Murtagh was nowhere in sight. A panic went through her even though she knew the Varden coudn't have come and kidnapped him when she was standing five feet away. Why was she worrying about him anyways? Hadn't he just shoved her into a pond without permission?

She gasped as he shot up behind her, grabbing her around the waist and hoisting her over his shoulder.

"Did you miss me?" He asked, making her shiver involuntarily as his warm breath heated the skin up on her thigh. And in other places.

"Put me down at once! What do you think you are doing?" She was glad he couldn't see her furiously blushing face or feel the strange pleasure she was receiving. She was vaguely aware of his warm hand resting on her backside to keep her from falling.

"As you wish," he dropped her, letting her fall into the water in front of him and come up sputtering to clear her mouth of water. She stood up and splashed him, but it barely seemed to effect him. He laughed at her futile attempts at revenge, sending her a splash back.

They stood in the water silent for a moment. The once still pond seemed to be moving on its own with all the waves and ripples they had created. A breeze came through and Caitrin shivered at the chill.

"I'll be on this side," Murtagh said, moving over to the bank. He picked up her bundle and threw it across the clear waters to her. She barely caught it.

"What do you mean?" She asked, setting the bundle on an opposite bank.

"I think we can trust each other to not look, we'll face the other way and finish what we have to do quickly," Murtagh explained. To prove his point, he immediately turned around and stripped himself of his shirt. Caitrin caught a glance of a well muscled back before she turned as well. Self-consciously she began bathe, hurrying through it to avoid the chance of being seen. She was sorely tempted to turn around and see if Murtagh was watching her, but she resisted it. She could hear the noises of him moving in the water behind her.

She stepped out of the river, wringing out her hair and reaching for the clean clothes. She tried to dry as much of herself as she could with an extra length of cloth she had brought. The leather clothes stuck slightly to her damp skin as she pulled them on, resisting every curve. After braiding her hair and sweeping it up into a knot, she gathered her things and turned around. Murtagh sat on the grass and moss covered bank with a lazy tomcat smile playing across his face.

"How long have you been watching?" Her voice asked with deadly calm. His smile grew wider at her tone.

"Not long enough to see anything," he replied, standing up and walking towards her. Something inside her didn't believe him. She stared icily at him as he waited for her to catch up with him. Together they began the trek back to the makeshift camp, Murtagh attentive and tuned for any noises that would alert them to danger.

"Was it worth it?" He asked from ahead of her.

"Yes, though I doubt that you did much good coming along. I could have done without you," she answered smoothly. He glanced over his shoulder and shot her a dubious look. "You think you would have been useful?" She countered.

"I did it more for myself, to be sure of your protection," he said.

"Ah, so the real objective wasn't to bathe?"

"That was an added plus, along with the nice view," he commented arrogantly. He tried to duck as her bundle of sopping wet clothes came flying at him from behind. Laughing, he picked them up and pitched them over his shoulder back at her. She caught them and jogged a bit to walk next to him.

"You didn't mean that did you?" She asked warily. Her mind silently pleaded for him to say no. She looked up at him when she didn't hear an answer and noticed he had a distracted look on his face. She sighed and continued walking next to him. He seemed to do that a lot.

"You're speaking with your dragon, aren't you?" Caitrin asked. His eyes seemed to snap back into focus as he turned to look at her.

"Yes, I was. He thinks there might be a small party approaching these woods, and those same spies we met in Furnost could be traveling with them," he told her. He didn't mention another aspect of their conversation.

"Then this is our chance to get rid of them. We can easily stalk them and take them out in less than a day if they're as close as your dragon says," she reasoned. Murtagh shook his head.

"That would alert them of our presence. I think the Varden might notice if two of their top informers are missing or out of contact," he said. "We'll just have to avoid them, keep out of their way and hope they don't recognize us."

"What if they do? Recognize us, I mean," she clarified.

"We can continue our feigned relationship and make up a story about ourselves," he said. Caitrin pondered this as they continued walking, silence settling between them.

* * *

They soon reached the camp, and Caitrin set about to making dinner. She roasted thin strips of meat over the fire she had made and beneath the meat she cooked a corn meal mixed with herbs. Murtagh reclined on the ground near her, watching her with a hooded expression. Caitrin felt eyes upon her and cast him a confused look. He looked away then, but remained preoccupied with his thoughts. 

After they ate, they let the fire begin to die down. Caitrin fell asleep quickly, tired from the day's events. Murtagh sat opposite her on the other side of the fire, watching the flames intently and occasionally looking up to glance at Caitrin.

_Are you busy now? _Thorn invaded his thoughts.

_No. _

_Good. We can continue our conversation._

_What of it?_

_The girl. You are beginning to like her. I can feel it everytime you let a stray thought about her pass your through your mind._

Murtagh closed his eyes briefly, cursing his open thoughts.

_Oh yes, did you think I would not notice? And I have also not failed to notice something else you aren't telling her, about your musings to join-_

_Don't say it. It's not definite. It's an idea, an escape route to save our skins, nothing more._

_Whatever you say, Rider._

Murtagh sighed and stood up, moving to sleep a few feet away from Caitrin and trying to clear his thoughts to sleep.

* * *

**Review please. They are much loved and cherished. Any thoughts, ideas, or criticisms are welcome.**

**-ElfLuver13**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you to all who reviewed, it means a lot to me and helps the story move along.**

**LadyJaime178, Nelarun, EragonPeep, elfy14, Nearra, Mary, DarkenedTragedyXx, Kayanora, sweetblonde15, Hope and love, jackysgal, luvthefluf, Elven Angel Pirate Chick, Canadian-Girl14, Evangeline, alfalfa7, Agent047, and Jennifer.**

* * *

**_---Chapter Six---_**

**_Fight or Flight_**

**_by: ElfLuver13_**

**_-----------_**

* * *

"Your dragon is staring at me," Caitrin said, becoming unnerved at the unwavering scarlet eyes upon her. Thorn had failed to remove his eyes from her, watching her every step in the clearing with a hooded gaze in the early dawn. 

"He's thinking," Murtagh explained. "It has nothing to do with you."

"What, dare I say, could he be thinking about? As a dragon?" Thorn gave an outraged growl, loud enough to resonate in the surrounding forest. Caitrin shrunk back at the sound. "Did I say something?"

Murtagh laughed at the pure naivety in her voice. Silently he scolded Thorn for making noise and scaring her out of her wits.

"You wounded his pride. He can think, quite well in fact. I wouldn't suggest another comment like that again, your safety isn't guaranteed." Thorn settled back into his curled up position with a haughty attitude and finally, to Caitrin's relief, turned his attentions elsewhere.

"I offended him then?" She asked in horror. She suddenly felt fortunate to still be alive.

"Come on, we need to make it out of this forest. I was hoping to make it to Petrøvya within the next three days," Murtagh said, finishing the knot on the horse's saddle.

"Hoping?"

"We're taking precautions because of the impending encounter with that Varden group. It will now take us four days, and maybe even another two after that if we have trouble on the borders of Surda." He swung up on the saddle, and with another of his trademark grins he patted the space behind him. Caitrin dragged herself over to him and reluctantly swung up behind him, wondering if she was ever going to get a separate horse to ride.

* * *

Murtagh's hair smelled like soap. Soap! Lavender soap at that! It disturbed her to know that he smelled of Lavender. What would the king say?

"Are you smelling my hair?" He asked, suspiciously glancing over his shoulder. She shook her head innocently and continued her monotonous task of watching for danger. The only danger she saw was of the non-existent, boring sort. A leaf here, a rodent there.

"Does your dragon know where those Varden are at the moment?" She asked, then heard him murmuring those words and could almost see his eyes changing from their usual grey to crimson slits.

"They are near, apparently they have been following us. They'll probably catch up with us at midday," he answered. He reined the horse to the left sharply and urged him into a faster pace. She felt something behind them, a presence. She gripped him tightly and dared a glance over her own shoulder.

An arrow flew at them with surprising accuracy and speed, giving her barely enough time to grab Murtagh's shoulders and pull him to the side to avoid the weapon. He turned the horse around to face whatever was attacking them, eyes narrowing in uncertainty when he found nothing. Another arrow assaulted them, followed by three others. All of them were coming from the exact same place in the tree directly above them.

"Show yourself!" Murtagh challenged. Behind him, Caitrin drew her blade and waited for a reason to return the favor of aggression. The horse stood still, hooves planted firmly but ready to move and ears cocked for any sound. The tree shook, and a pair of legs were seen from the tree. A torso and covered face soon followed. The figure dropped smoothly to the ground, landing in front of them with a soft thud.

"Who are you? What do you want with us?" Murtagh questioned.

"You are Galbatorix's informants. I am a rebel against your tyrant king," the person, who could be called a man by his tone of voice, answered with a calm air. It was accompanied by an assured, confidant presence.

"How would you know this? Varden, I presume?" Murtagh probed.

"You presume well. I have seen the tags with his seal that you wear. My company and I wish to hinder Galbatorix in any way we can, and therefore we will be glad to be rid of you."

The next few moments seemed to happen slowly. The man lunged at the horse with two long knives drawn and ready. Without a second thought Caitrin thrust her sword from behind Murtagh and impaled the man, killing him instantly.

"Thanks," Murtagh said. He dismounted the horse and pulled the body from the sword, careful not to spill blood on his clothes or much on the ground. "We can hide him in the brush. I think you can guess who this man's companions were."

"The Varden spies. He wasn't one of them?" She asked.

"There is an old man and a younger apprentice. The older one's skill is legendary, even more so is his pupil's. This was someone who accompanied them to do the dirty work, less skilled in the ways of politics," he explained. He wiped his bloodied hands on the man's tunic before rejoining Caitrin on the horse.

"I hope you're good at acting," Murtagh told her. Midday was soon approaching.

* * *

"You there! Travelers!" They had stopped at a stream to rest when a small company of five appeared on the other side. The spies were among them.

"Grab my hand," Murtagh whispered urgently before facing the party across from them. They urged their horses through the stream to meet them (the company) as Catrin fought the compulsion to back away. Murtagh grasped her hand tighter, pulling her into him to wrap an arm around her waist and hold her close.

"Perhaps you can help us, we seem to have lost one of our companions further back," a man said. Caitrin and Murtagh assumed him to be the leader. He had an angular face, sandy blond hair to his shoulders, and startling green eyes. His clothes spoke of wealth, clearly defining his status among the group and elsewhere. The older man and apprentice Murtagh had warned of stood off to the side of the group. Caitrin watched as the older man leaned over to the young male and whispered something into his ear. His eyes snapped immediately to Caitrin. She broke the gaze and looked away as she felt a cold sweat break out on her skin.

"I'm afraid we haven't met anybody, to our good fortune. We're running from her father, he did not approve of our love and refused her hand to me," Murtagh said convincingly. Caitrin added a sad smile for effect and leaned in closer to him. The man conferred with the older spy before coming back to them.

"Aelric has seen you in Furnost, is that where you came from?"

"It is. We would appreciate it if you were discreet of our whereabouts, her father is still looking for us," Murtagh pleaded. The man nodded quickly, assuring him. "I would look for your friend back at Furnost, perhaps he lost your group and returned to the last place he saw you."

"Thank you for your advice. Good fortune to you, young lovers!" The man wheeled his horse around and splashed back through the stream at a gallop, the rest following him. Caitrin sighed in relief as Murtagh released her. He looked at her in alarm when she abruptly burst into laughter.

"What are you amused at? We narrowly escaped discovery and here you are mocking me?" He looked at her incredulously.

"'Her father is still looking for us', I'm surprised they even believed that. I had no idea we were supposed to be playing runaway lovers, I wonder where you got that idea from our little scene in the alley," she wondered.

"It was the first thing I thought of, it must have been believable, they believed it didn't they?" Caitrin sobered herself, her face becoming serious.

"The older man whispered to the younger one, and then he looked at me. I think they know, or have a very strong suspicion."

"In that case, we'll be riding as much as we can to get across Surda's borders to Petrøvya."

* * *

**Short, I know. Sorry about that. I had to get something out. Your reviews keep this story alive! I appreciate any comments and help you can give me!**

**Also, thanks to my beta, Agent047.**

**-ElfLuver13**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks to the reviewers:**

**LadyJaime178, elfy14, sweetblonde15, LaMusica, jackysgal, luvthefluf, Megilindir, Nelarun, Canadian-Girl14, Agent047, alfalfa7, and princess-enigma**

* * *

**_---Chapter Seven---_**

**_Fight or Flight_**

**_by: ElfLuver13_**

**_-----------_**

* * *

_Close call? _Thorn entered his thoughts hours later. The steady pounding of the horse's hooves had nearly put Murtagh to sleep, especially when it happened to be late at night. 

_It was avoided. Did they see you? _

_They're headed in the opposite direction, back to their encampment on the Burning Plains by way of southwest of Furnost. _

_Then I'm assuming you are above us. _Murtagh glanced up into the cloudy night sky, catching a glimpse of red scales before Thorn darted higher to remain hidden. He heard no more from the dragon and continued to maneuver the horse to Surda's border, less than a day's ride from their current position. Caitrin had fallen asleep behind him, her head resting on his shoulder and her arms less tight around his middle, although still limply clasped there.

_How's the girl? _Thorn's voice came back.

_Asleep. Why do you ask? _

_Her mind is restless. _

_You shouldn't be delving into her thoughts, that's rude. It's bad enough you do it to me without my knowledge. _

_Are you still fond of her? _

Murtagh ignored the question and pushed Thorn from his mind. He emptied his thoughts and put up his defenses, blocking Thorn from entering his mind again in his relaxed state. He didn't want to answer that question. Not yet, and most definitely not to Thorn.

* * *

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

The ceaseless pattern echoed in Caitrin's mind as it had been doing since the previous evening. Her backside was sore from the endless jolts and bumps as the horse galloped tirelessly. Unsurprisingly, Murtagh seemed unaffected. She sat up straighter in the saddle and shifted to a slightly more comfortable position. Murtagh noticed the movement and slowed the horse to a walk before finally stopping and motioning for her to dismount.

Caitrin slid off the horse easily, grateful for the solid earth and a chance to stretch her legs. They had stopped almost out in the open. The grass-covered plain covered everything to the horizon, with nothing but a few clumps of brush and the occasional hill marring the landscape. It was midday, she noticed. Murtagh had been smart and picked a place with a large tree for shade and a clear pond resting near it.

"Where are we?" She asked.

"East of Petrøvya. We should be at Surda's borders by sunset tomorrow," he answered from near the stream. He tossed her a full water skin and she thanked him silently.

"It seems we are constantly traveling," she remarked.

He smiled a bit at her observation. "One must create a crooked path to outwit an enemy. Galbatorix will be grieved because of the time it takes us, but even he can not deny the danger that accompanies a fixed path."

Caitrin watched him walk over to the horse and secure the saddle more tightly, noting that he did not look or act exhausted as he should have been after their long ride. He never seemed to be fully tired or wearied. She walked over to the other side of the horse and opened the saddlebag to retrieve what little food they had to eat. The thick stench of rotting fruit and moldy bread filled the air.

Murtagh's head appeared on the opposite side of the horse and he grimaced. "Anything that can be salvaged?"

Caitrin looked doubtful. There were two apples that looked harmless and a crust of bread without a speck on it, but everything else had gone bad. "I hope you like apples," she said, starting to hand him one.

The bushes and clump of trees nearby shook violently and startled her, causing the apple to drop to the ground and roll directly in front of Murtagh's beastly horse. It was snapped up instantly, but neither was paying attention to their lost nourishment. Their eyes were fixed on the shaking tree and moving branches. Caitrin inched her way around the back of the horse, conscious of the powerful hind hooves, and placed herself next to Murtagh. He had drawn his sword and placed a hand on her arm to tell her to stay there as he went forward.

Caitrin's hands clenched the horse's mane involuntarily, her knuckles white against the animal's coarse, brown hair. She watched as Murtagh crept towards the sound, a short grunting every so often, and held the blade out in front of him like a barrier. Caitrin gasped as something came into view.

A long grey face poked out from between the bushes, and Murtagh dropped his sword to his side immediately. He stepped forward hesitantly and made coaxing sounds, soothing and cajoling in a soft voice. Slowly, a dust-covered horse emerged, grey and long-legged. Caitrin's horse had returned.

Murtagh grabbed the reins when they were within reach. The horse threw its head up, but otherwise remained complacent. Caitrin stepped forward and stroked the horse's velvety nose, unable to contain her laughter.

Murtagh laughed with her, amused that they had thought they were endangered by a foolish and skittish horse. Laughter was not something Caitrin had heard from Murtagh often, but she decided that she liked the sound of it. She leaned against the recovered horse while he stood mere inches away, both unaware of their closeness.

* * *

"A dragon and rider? Near Furnost?" Nasuada questioned the group that had returned from scouting. If what they reported was true, the Varden needed a plan to combat them, and fast. Beside her, the rider Eragon sat with the elf Arya on his other side. 

"Aelric suspects so, my lady," the captain reported. Aelric himself stood silent and aloof a few paces away. "The rider and another of Galbatorix's soldiers, a female, were spotted together at Furnost. We met the two later at a stream, and we suspect they are traveling under false disguise."

Nasuada considered the report. It was likely they were headed for the encampment, and they would probably pass through Surda. They would need to send people to alert Surda of the rider, and possibly send reinforcements. The Varden knew how dangerous a dragon and his rider could be, especially this dragon and rider.

"Do you know how they are disguising themselves?" she asked. She noticed that next to her, Eragon's hands were clenched in fists, and he was shaking. "Are you all right?" she asked him quietly.

He answered with a slight nod.

"We believe they are posing as runaways, two lovers."

She nodded and dismissed him. This was one of the worst things that had happened since the loss of their informant in Uru'baen. She hoped Eragon would put aside his personal thoughts and biases and ready himself to face his new opponent, again.

* * *

He pulled her closer, feeling her respond to him. She continued kissing him, and had flashbacks of the incident in Furnost. This was different. He was gentle, unlike the rough side she had seen in the alleyway. She actually liked it. 

_Not fond of her, eh? _

Murtagh pulled back suddenly, moving away from her and searching the skies furiously.

"What's wrong?" she asked, thinking she had done something to displease him. He didn't answer.

_Where are you! Show yourself. I swear, I will- _

_What? _

_If you ever interrupt me again like that, I will make sure you have no contact with me for a week! _

Caitrin watched as his face twisted into anger, his features raging. He had only ever had a distant look when he conversed with his dragon, not this. A blush began to spread itself up her neck and into her face as she realized what had happened.

_That's impossible, and you know it. _

_You're wasting my time with quarreling, Thorn. _

_And you're wasting your time with the girl. We're even. _

Murtagh made a disgusted sound and handed the reins of the grey horse to Caitrin. She mounted and it felt strangely bare not to have someone sitting in front of her. He gave her a slightly apologetic look, then wheeled his horse around and set off at a gallop. Caitrin followed him across the barren plain.

* * *

"You owe me for that!" 

"I do not!"

The Captain of Surda's guard rolled his eyes as he listened to two underlings quarrel while on duty. They were all idiots; either unfit or unwilling to defend their noble country. The Captain feared the latter. He had enough on his mind besides having to worry about his men deserting him. They had just received news that two of the Empire's best were headed towards Surda, in disguise. He had alerted the border guards, and ordered them to send word when two people were spotted with the given description.

"Shut it, you two! And back to work!" he yelled at the two imbecile soldiers. They straightened immediately, unaware that they had been watched. The Captain retreated to his quarters to mull the current situation over.

* * *

"See that? Over there?" Murtagh said over his shoulder. In the distance, towers stood out plainly against the rising sun. After riding through the night they had finally reached Surda, even a bit earlier than expected. Their horses plodded along, resting after an almost constant run. 

"Do you think we'll have any trouble getting in?" Caitrin asked, pulling her horse up even with Murtagh.

He looked at her with a tense expression on his face. "Whatever you do, don't change the story. Even if they have received information of our disguise, if we keep it together they might let loose on security or even believe us," he explained. "We ran away from Furnost, from your father Daget. My name is Trey, and you are Reyna. Got it?"

Caitrin nodded numbly. She was used to her own tactics of breaking in, but she had come to trust Murtagh. He was a dragon rider, she had to give him that.

"Try and look innocent, at least. Our clothing might be a little hard to explain." He glanced at their traveling clothes. "Especially since you're not wearing anything that resembles a dress... but we'll deal with that if it becomes necessary."

They continued in silence, approaching the towers and high walls carefully. Caitrin hoped Murtagh knew what he was doing, they couldn't afford to be captured, and she highly doubted Galbatorix would send help to bail them out. He would expect them to dig themselves out of their own hole.

As they neared the borders, the sun now visible in the early morning, men could be seen on top of the walls. They moved in groups, marching back and forth with weapons drawn and ready. It was an imposing sight, and one that did not comfort her at all.

Murtagh gave one last glance back at her, almost as a way to ask if she truly was ready. Caitrin nodded, pulling her horse closer to Murtagh's. A man on the wall above noticed them, shouting to someone below to open the gates. An armored man walked out of the slightly opened doors, tan and dark haired.

"State your business in Surda," the man said harshly. His eyes stared at them ceaselessly, trying to intimidate them.

"We seek a safe haven," Murtagh began. Caitrin hardly recognized his voice, it seemed he had gone into character and now sounded like a scared youth. "Please, you do not know what we've gone through. It's taken us days to get here from Furnost."

The man's eyes flashed. He shouted to someone above in a foreign language and five hooded figures dropped down in between them and the man. Murtagh held his hands up in surrender, and Caitrin did the same.

"Dismount and acquiesce to our interrogations and you may be able to save yourselves. If you resist, you will be killed."

As if to prove his statement, a line of archers pulled back their bows above. Murtagh and Caitrin dismounted and handed the reins of the horses over to other soldiers. He pulled her close to him, willing her to follow his lead. She clung to him, half in character, and half out of fear. The hooded men closed in on them and began to separate the two.

"No!" Caitrin shouted, clinging to the front of Murtagh's shirt. The man was able to tear her away by brute force, and the men holding Murtagh held him tighter as he tried to pull Caitrin back to him.

"I'll see you, don't worry, I'll see you," he said, appearing to reassure her as she was dragged away before him into the walls of Surda. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks to reviewers of the seventh chapter:**

**Calmarea, EvilBunny101, sweetblonde15, luvthefluf, Agent047, Nelarun, alfalfa7, Alexis, Eragon1177**

**

* * *

The throwing of rotten fruit, old computers, pillows, and other varieties of projectiles may now commence. You have my deepest apology for neglecting the story. Enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

**_---Chapter Eight---_**

**_Fight or Flight_**

**_by: ElfLuver13_**

**_-----------_**

**_

* * *

_**

She caught glimpses of a deserted courtyard and stone walls before the large man holding her put a hand on the back of her head and forced her into a damp tunnel. It was almost completely dark, the sides of the cave-like passageway were covered in a slimy-looking film that also clung to the air and made it hard to breathe. From up above, she heard shouting and rough footsteps echoing on the cobbled paths above them.

"Move along," the man said gruffly, shoving her forward. She stumbled on the steep steps but caught herself before she went headlong into the unknown. The wall sconces each contained a glass-covered flame, barely large enough to illuminate one's face, let alone the path before them.

Finally, they reached flat ground. Caitrin blinked furiously, trying to adjust to the darkness and at least see something. The guard leading her, who still had one hand firmly clamped around her upper arm, was speaking to another similarly dressed soldier rapidly. Caitrin couldn't make out the language. The other man nodded to Caitrin's guard and they followed him down a hallway to their left. Caitrin thought she could see things moving in the walls. Moments later she realized that the walls were prison cells, and there were prisoners inside them.

They walked nearly to the end of the row of cells, Caitrin could see a heavy wooden door at the end of the hallway. Her cell was four from the door. The other man pulled a ring of grimy keys from his pocket, flipping through them quickly to find the key to the cell.

"My commander is waiting," Caitrin's guard complained. The man with the keys, small and wormy in appearance, glared at him and continued to search. He stopped and held up a key to the door; it swung open moments later, groaning on its hinges. The guard shoved her in, sending her sprawling on the filthy stone covered floor.

"Where'd this one come from?" The prison guard asked curiously, peering at her crudely from the other side of the bars. He reminded Caitrin of a crab. The soldier that had brought her sent a sidelong glance at the man.

"Galbatorix," he replied. Then he added, "She is not to be touched."

The Crab sent a disgusted look at Caitrin.

"As if I would touch a traitor," he said. The two walked away, and Caitrin sighed in relief to hear the retreating footsteps. Her eyes had adjusted to the dimness of the dungeons, and she was able to look around her cell.

It was a small cell, no more than maybe six by eight feet. A bucket was in the corner, and Caitrin already knew what that was for. Judging by the smell, they probably hadn't cleaned it out since the last person had used it, either. There were thick walls on either side of her, with the bars and the door to the cell ahead of her. No window, no bed.

Caitrin crawled around the cell, searching for a spot on the filthy floor that wasn't covered with waste or grime. She settled for a spot near the back corner of the cell, and, tucking her knees up to her body and putting her head in her arms, she fell asleep.

* * *

"Let me go! Where did you take her? Let go of me!" 

Murtagh wrenched his arms from the grip of a brawny soldier. Moments later, though, several more soldiers tackled him and held him securely. One burly man approached and put his foot on Murtagh's head, grinding his face into the cobblestones of the courtyard. "Are you ready to cooperate, spy? Or are you the dragon rider?"

Murtagh feigned innocence. "I don't know what you are talking about," he answered, his voice muffled into the ground.

The man kicked him. "Insolent fool!"

Murtagh gritted his teeth against the pain. He fought the overwhelming urge to kill all of the soldiers with a single spell, knowing their only hope was if he stayed in character. Perhaps magic would be useful later.

"Take him to the dungeons, to the cell next to his 'beloved'," the man mocked. "I want him flogged twice a day until he tells. Make sure she is within hearing."

Murtagh was hauled to his feet and dragged the rest of the way. Lights burst behind his eyes and he could see his blood dripping to the ground, leaving a trail behind him. He shifted, trying to stand more, and one of the guards holding him struck his head with the butt of his sword. Then there was blackness.

* * *

Caitrin was woken from her reverie by a commotion down the row of cells. She stood up slowly and sauntered to the cage bars, craning her neck to see. They appeared to be carrying a limp form down the hallway. 

"He's to go next to the girl," she heard. Sure enough, with the Crab leading the way, the unconscious man was brought down towards her cell. Caitrin fought the urge to gasp as she recognized him.

A trickle of blood was coming from his hairline where a nasty bruise was beginning to appear. Blood also flowed from his nose, and the edge of his mouth. Dirt was smeared along one side of his face. Unable to stand and watch Murtagh, Caitrin recoiled back into her cell and leaned against the wall, fighting the nausea beginning to creep into her. The cell door opened, and Caitrin heard a dull thump as Murtagh was presumably tossed into the cell.

The tears made tracks through the dirt coated on her face. When had she become so weak? What had happened to the Caitrin that wouldn't have flinched if she had seen a man killed?

The tears fell to the floor, making small puddles in the filth. Feeling pitiful and utterly alone, Caitrin curled up into the wall beside her and sobbed.

* * *

Everything hurt. Groaning with the effort, Murtagh rolled over. He lifted his head, trying to find out where he was. He vaguely remembered being taken down somewhere. The feculent stone beneath him gave him a clue, so did the bars. He was in a dungeon. 

It all began to come back to him. The courtyard, the burly man, then unimaginable pain and darkness. They had said to put him in a cell next to his beloved. That meant Caitrin. Something like misery formed in the pit of his stomach as he worried for her, what they had done to her. If it was even half as bad as they had done to him, he knew he would not rest until he found retribution.

His hearing caught something faint. He cocked his head, listening harder. It was near him, coming from his right. He dragged himself to the stone wall of his cell and stopped. Someone was crying. He could hear the short, hysterical breaths, even the splash of the tears on the stone. Rage bubbled up inside him. He ventured to speak, wondering if she would even hear him.

"Caitrin?" He asked softly. He imagined her face, dirty like his but hopefully unharmed, her bright eyes shining with wetness. The sobbing stopped slightly, slowed, and then quieted. And then an answer came.

"Murtagh?"

"Yes, it's me. Who else here would know your name?" he replied. A stifled laugh. He smiled, knowing he had cheered her up a bit.

"I saw you when they brought you in, you looked..."

"Dead? Awful? I imagine so," he said. Silence. He wondered if that might have been too much for her.

"I was so worried for you. What are we going to do?"

"We'll wait. Stick with the story, and we'll see if it gets through to them," he answered.

"I think they know we're imposters, Murtagh. That spy for the Varden, he's already let the story out. I knew we should have killed him."

"Then we'll find another way," he replied.

"You can use magic, can't you?" Her voice filled with hope.

"I'm saving it. There will be a time to use it, but not now. I have barely enough strength to do anything, especially magic."

"What do you think they'll do with us, then?" she asked.

"They're planning to torture me for information, with you nearby to see and hear. I think they know I won't break, they're counting on you to give in and tell. Whatever you do, do not say a word."

"But-"

"No. I will be fine."

Caitrin had no answer to that. It would be hard to watch him suffer, but he had told her his resolve. She had no doubt of her faith in him to get them both of Surda's dungeons.

"What of Thorn? Where is he?" Caitrin asked, switching subjects.

"I'll ask him," he replied. He reached out, his mind searching and grasping for Thorn's. He would be far away, safe somewhere in a cave. With relief, he finally found Thorn's mind.

_Where are you?_

_I should ask you the same thing. Surda was not friendly, then?_ Thorn asked.

_Decidedly not. I need to know that you won't be discovered._

_I won't be, trust me._

_We'll be a while; days. Perhaps even weeks._

_I won't desert you._

_I know, I just didn't want you to be worried._

_Never. _

_I'm glad you care. Sleep well._

_You as well, rider._

Murtagh slumped backwards against the cell wall, thoroughly exhausted and ready to sleep. Even speaking with Thorn had sent an unexpected fatigue to him.

"I'm guessing Thorn is well?" Caitrin asked. Murtagh had forgotten to reply.

"Yes, he is. Safely hidden and warned."

"Good night, then," she replied. He had already fallen asleep, she could hear his steady breathing. Having satisfied her worry for him, she curled up again and slept, as close to the wall as the space allowed.

* * *

Surprisingly, Caitrin woke the next morning after having a decent night's sleep. She stretched a bit to get the cricks and stiffness from her neck. 

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, signaling an approach. Caitrin had already guessed who it was.

"Morning, scum. A bit of porridge?" The Crab slid a bowl through an opening in the bars. Moments later, a small tin cup was sent in as well. Caitrin stood and walked over to the offerings.

The 'porridge' could have been anything but porridge. Since when did porridge have tiny white worms swimming through it, anyways? The water was tinted brown, and was warm. Hunger seized her like a sickness, the stomach cramps were becoming unbearable. She closed her eyes and tilted the bowl towards her mouth, swallowing the stuff without chewing. Trying to block out the image of the food, she then did the same with the water. It tasted fairly normal if one didn't actually look at it.

She heard Murtagh receiving his breakfast next. With her stomach hardly appeased, she drew herself back into the shadows of her cell and waited for him to finish.

"This makes Galbatorix's dungeons look like a palace," she heard him say.

Caitrin laughed softly and agreed. "Where do you think they got the water?" she asked.

"Probably a pond, or a pail left out to catch rain."

"How long before they'll-"

She was cut off by the sound of heavy boots stomping down the corridor. Once again, she saw the Crab for the second time that morning, gleefully rummaging through his keys to find the one to Murtagh's cell. He found it and opened the rusty bars, letting the soldiers file into Murtagh's cell and drag him out into the corridor.

"There." A soldier pointed to a space in front of Caitrin's cell. Murtagh was heaved to the ground in that spot. Caitrin stifled her tears and gazed passively at a spot on the ceiling. She heard the sound of ripping as his shirt was pulled off and strewn somewhere. A soldier moved to stand in front of him, holding him up and exposing his back to the other soldier.

Caitrin glanced at him, unable to keep from looking, and noticed something that she never had. A long, nasty looking scar stretched from his shoulder to his hip. She looked over to the soldier behind him, who had begun to raise a whip above his head.

She was able to take her eyes from him before she heard the whip slice through his skin.

* * *

**Mwahaha... cliffie. Please review! Thanks again to my beta, Agent047! And happy New Year to you all!**

**-ElfLuver13**


	9. Chapter 9

**Kudos and thanks to reviewers of Chapter Eight:**

**Agent047, Saransano, EvilBunny101, 3rd Class Rockstar 89, ayraelf, dR.dReAmEx-23Q, Canadian-Girl14, luvthefluf, .atrum.angelus.forevermore., Nelarun, SilverSkulblaka, Jujubee, and alfalfa7**

* * *

_**--Chapter Nine--**_

_**Fight or Flight**_

_**by: ElfLuver13**_

_**-- **_

* * *

"What is Galbatorix planning?"

Slash.

"I don't know, why don't you ask him?"

Slash.

Caitrin had made futile attempts at blocking out the sights and sounds in front of her. She knew that Murtagh's sarcastic replies weren't doing much for his cause, but that was Murtagh. The seemingly endless interrogations had centered around the same thing. They wanted to know what Galbatorix was planning.

She dared a quick glance at Murtagh's form when she heard the captors saying they had finished. The marks made by the whip left angry red streaks almost parallel to the scar he had already. She looked away almost instantly, blinking back an onslaught of tears. He gave a low groan as they heaved him to his feet and dragged him back to his cell.

"Perhaps you will be more cooperative the next time we meet, rider!" the large man spat out. The heavy iron bars slammed shut with a metallic sound and the lock grated closed. Caitrin could hear Murtagh's harsh breathing as he tried to catch his breath.

"You fool," she whispered, her voice still breaking with the threat of tears. She huddled close to the wall and pressed her face against it, as if it would take her closer to him. "Why couldn't you have just told him and dealt with Galbatorix later?"

"Because Galbatorix would have had to punish us, severely," he answered, then joked, "and it's not so bad, really."

"He can't kill you, though, can he? He needs your dragon," Caitrin replied, ignoring his attempt at humor. Murtagh replied seriously.

"But he can kill you. And he would. It sounds awful, but you could be replaced. I won't let that happen," he promised her.

Caitrin closed her eyes and let the tears come, wishing that the impersonal, apathetic stone wall between them was gone.

Caitrin opened her eyes blearily, waking from a fitful sleep, to the sound of Crab clanging a wooden spoon against a bucket. The harsh, strident tones made her head pulse with pain. The sound was getting nearer.

"Wake up! Wake up, the lot of you! Filthy, conniving criminals that you are..."

She looked into the light in front of her to see Crab's beady eyes peering at her from between the bars. His mouth was open and grinning toothlessly.

"Morning, missy. You'll be on your best behavior for the king now, won't you?" he said, then walked away without another word.

Caitrin narrowed her eyes in suspicion and wondered what he meant. He bestowed a similar greeting to Murtagh, and Caitrin could hear him mixing insults and compliments in one sentence as he did with her before he moved on.

Leaning back against the frigid wall behind her, Caitrin tried to figure out what Crab meant by his statement. Had he meant something about the king coming to see them? Surely not.

"The king, eh?" she heard Murtagh's voice. "This might be to our advantage."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"We can bargain with him. We'll exchange Galbatorix's favors for our release, promise not to make any more trouble against Surda... something like that. What do you think?"

"I think you're insane. I highly doubt that the King of Surda will visit us down here anyways, and if he did, do you think he would actually believe us?" she said.

Silence.

"Yes, that's what I thought," came her smug reply.

* * *

A few hours later, after they had received their daily meal, light filtered into the dungeon from down the row of cells. They could hear countless guards assembling. Moments later, a strong voice rang out and reverberated off the walls.

"Make way for the king!" a harsh voice yelled. Caitrin could hear Crab's small cry of protest as his precious ring of keys were ripped from him and he was pushed aside.

"So, no way the king would come see us?" Murtagh's taunting voice asked. Caitrin smiled, even though she had been wrong. It was good to see Murtagh in such high spirits even after their ordeal.

The heavy, booted footsteps drew nearer. There were perhaps an entire brigade of soldiers accompanying the king for protection.

"Do not say a word, let me do the speaking," Murtagh said firmly, but quietly enough so that only she could hear. She bit back her retort on his "bargaining plan" and stayed quiet. Anticipation welled up inside her as they grew closer and closer.

A cluster of guards appeared, but moved to the side to allow a heavily decorated man step from within their ring of protection. His skin was dark, and his cloak was made of the finest silk, shimmering in the dim light the torches provided. His hair was to his shoulders, held back by a gleaming gold coronet. He had an imposing figure, tall and broad, blocking out all the light as he stepped forward.

"You are Galbatorix's Rider?" He asked, his voice deep and pleasant, though still firm and commanding.

There was no reply from Murtagh.

"Where is your dragon? It is red, is it not?"

She could almost feel Murtagh's displeasure at the statement. Obviously they had been spied upon when Thorn had appeared around them, and they hadn't even known it. However, the king seemed to be tiring of the one-sided conversation.

From behind the king, a man stepped from within the cluster of soldiers. His eyes, narrowed and snake-like, leered at her as he stepped into the open. His dress was similar to the king's, though less richly decorated. He appeared to be some kind of adviser or councilor.

"My lord, have you not noticed the rider's companion?" the man asked. His voice was slippery, every vowel and consonant slid off his tongue as though coated with honey. Caitrin returned his stare, never looking away.

"I was not notified there was a companion," he remarked, anger entering his voice. He shot a glare at Crab, who cowered farther into the darkness of the dungeons. The king moved to stand in front of Caitrin's cell. He reached for a sconce on the wall and removed the torch, bringing it closer to the bars to bring light into the dark cell.

Caitrin winced and shielded her eyes. The light was too much, it burned her eyes painfully after several days of no light at all. She faintly heard an order being shouted as keys were tossed towards her cell. Moments later, she heard a rusty hinge squeal as the door to her cell was hauled open. A towering man covered in gleaming armor stepped into the small area and gripped the back of her clothing, pulling her to her feet. His grip remained strong as she was led into the hallway outside her cell.

"And you are?" the king asked. He stepped closer, putting a hand beneath her chin and tilting it up towards him. Caitrin spit at his feet and jerked her head from his grasp.

The soldiers immediately moved into position at her sudden movement, swords drawn and ready. The one standing behind her had his blade at her neck. She bit back fear at the feel of the cold steel on her skin. From over the king's shoulder, she caught sight of Murtagh. His thoughts entered her mind easily.

_Watch yourself._

The king smirked, turning to look at Murtagh, and then back to Caitrin.

"The young lovers, I presume? Perhaps there is truth to your story, eh?"

"Sire, perhaps we might try and question her instead of the rider," the adviser said. The king looked at him for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

"If he is the rider, then you are the infamous assassin, am I right?" he began. Just as she was going to reply with the wrong answer, she felt pain beyond anything she had ever experienced pulse through her skull. It felt as though someone was reaching into her mind and gouging out the memories. Lights flashed in her vision, and she felt herself swaying. The adviser stood off to the side, his eyes locked on her.

"It appears Tiernan was unsuccessful in breaching the rider's mind, but I assure you, he will be most efficient in gathering information from yours," the king told her. He backed away, surveying her. The soldiers holding her were forced to prop her upright as she lost strength in her legs.

She wanted to die. Images and scenes were pulled out in her mind as if from a wheel, replaying every event she could ever remember. Colors blurred and people's faces came into focus at random. She saw her father, his face contorted in fear. Next, Galbatorix sneered at her from his perch on the throne. As the pain deepened, Murtagh's face came into view. He was laughing. She recognized the scenery around them from when her horse had made his return. That had been the day they kissed...

"Stop."

As soon as the word was mentioned, Caitrin felt a numbing peace settle over her mind. The burning beneath her scalp cooled as the intruder retreated hastily. She looked to the king, to see what had made him cancel the 'interrogations', and felt a surge of adrenaline at what she saw.

Murtagh had the king in a headlock and one of the soldiers' swords at his throat. The door to his cell behind him was destroyed, and several soldiers lay motionless on the ground.

"Let her go," Murtagh commanded. When no one moved, he pressed the sword closer, causing a trickle of blood to escape. The men behind Caitrin immediately broke their grip. She stumbled a bit before she stood upright and went to stand next to Murtagh. His hard gaze swept over to the adviser.

"It's not polite to rummage through people's minds," he said. The adviser remained expressionless. Murtagh bent his head a little and closed his eyes. After a second or two, he looked up and shouted something in the ancient language. The remaining soldiers fell lifelessly to the ground, including the advisor. They were left alone in the dungeon hallway, except for the king.

"You," Murtagh said, jerking the king into a closer grip. "You will tell me where the armory and the stables are."

"Have you killed them?" The king asked, ignoring his question.

"Why does it matter when you're the one about to be killed?" Murtagh replied. The king, surprisingly calm considering the situation, shrugged nonchalantly. Murtagh growled in anger.

"Don't kill him," Caitrin said, putting a hand on his arm. "That's all we need following us now, the death of Surda's leader on our hands."

"I wasn't going to kill him," Murtagh answered, his mind working furiously.

"Good to know," the king said. Caitrin glared at him.

Murtagh sighed before uttering another spell. At the words, the king fell limply to the dungeon floor, his ornamental armor clattering on the stones.

"He's asleep," Murtagh said before Caitrin could respond. "Come on, I have a good idea of where the armory is."

* * *

**Long Author's Note Warning**

**I'll not regale you with ludicrous excuses about the absence of this chapter. I'll simply tell you, it was writer's block. My beta, Agent047, is currently on vacation (in fact she left today, before I finished writing this) so I apologize for mistakes. I'll have her check it when she gets back. The next chapter is in the works, and I won't give you a time estimate on that, seeing as I gave one to a reviewer and it ended up being two months later (sorry SilverSkulblaka!). **

**In other news, if you're into online games, I suggest you join Vroengard Academy if you haven't already at (vroengard academy . c o m). Just fill in the spaces and place in browser. You create a name, take the trials, and get placed on a team. The rules will explain the rest, it's not hard at all. It's ****Eragon based****, featuring everything from the books. I'm on team Skolir, in case you do join the site and are curious. **

**Please review! I'll understand if you're mad and don't want to. Thanks for reading!**

**-EL13**


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